


A little nostalgia

by alexxir



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Byleth is like horny mad at claude and it's a great time, Edging, F/M, Femdom, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22274281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexxir/pseuds/alexxir
Summary: His cryptic answers weren't easing Byleth's anxieties at all. "Claude - what have you done to yourself?" She reached out to lay a hand against his forehead - and he shuddered.---Claude discovers his old experiments and tests out an aphrodisiac. Byleth "helps" him out with the side effects.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 217





	A little nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

> This fic now has fanart! Please send luzbel all the love over at [their twitter account](https://twitter.com/sinnerbel/status/1253847992903315460).

She was going to kill him.

Preferably with her own bare hands, but she didn't mind the method, really.

It had been a perfectly boring afternoon. She had taken to completing some of her less politically sensitive paperwork out in the courtyard, hoping that the crisp chill of the late spring air would pretty up her monotonous routine. Aside from the distant chirps of birds with freedom she downright envied, the repetitive _scratch scratch_ of ink on parchment kept her tethered to her task.

That is, until she heard softly approaching footsteps.

Byleth glanced up to meet the face of one very shy, positively trembling, Marianne.

"P-professor?" Sheepish as always, Marianne always looked like a kid who failed their exam whenever she dared to interrupt anyone doing, well, _anything_. Her reservations had mellowed out over the years, but her anxiety still poked its head out every now and again. "I'm, I'm sorry to bother you, but there's been an incident."

Byleth shuffled the pages of her parchment together with a _tap-tap._

"What is it?"

Her brow furrowed and she closed her eyes before speaking. "Uh - um, you see, I-I believe Claude has poisoned himself."

Byleth rose to her feet.

"When, where?"

Marianne guided her ex professor to the location of said reckless man. She continued to explain while she followed along.

"Well, I was just walking by his old dormitory room when I heard what sounded like a cry. So I, I knocked on his room and he - he told me that may have ingested something a bit too strong and that he needed to see you immediately."

The ex-professor bristled. "Were you able to treat him?"

Marianne looked downright despairing when she turned to face Byleth. "I tried, but he refused to let me help him."

 _Reckless_ **_and_ ** _an idiot_.

"It's ok, Marianne," Byleth reassured. "I'll send him over to the infirmary once I can figure out what he's taken, and how dangerous it is."

Marianne nodded, relieved.

When they rounded on the steps leading to the second floor of the dormitories, Marianne looked up, and back at Byleth, and up again.

"I've got it from here, Marianne. Thank you."

Byleth thought she caught a soft, grateful sigh as Marianne bowed, dismissing herself.

Byleth once again turned her attention again to the dormitories. Her steps were purposely heavy, practically thudding up the staircase - she doubted Claude would hear her approach from the other side of the corridor, but the thought that he _could_ did make her feel better.

When she at last arrived at the door of the old student bedroom of one Claude von Riegan, she gave three loud rasps on the wooden door. Given the circumstances, she thought it was downright cordial.

A muffled voice spoke from behind it. "Who is it?"

"Me," Byleth answered. "I'm coming in."

She didn't wait for a response before wrangling the door open and slamming it behind her.

The said reckless idiot was planted face down on his old bed.

Her eyes darted across the room. Aside from the books piled up and scattered across the floor and windowsill, probably still collecting dust in the exact places Claude had left them years ago, the only thing of interest was a mahogany case, propped open, holding several cork-topped tubes. Coloured and transparent liquids filled the various glasses, and Byleth noticed other foreign tools and utensils most likely connected to how one produced said mysterious concoctions.

One tube, set aside from the others, was notably cork-less and empty.

Byleth turned her attention back to Claude. As she approached him, she could see sweat gleaming across his neck, loose, wavy hair glued down by it all. Judging by his flushed skin tone, he appeared to also have a fever.

 _Time to get him sorted out_ , she thought. "Right. What are your symptoms?"

Claude pulled his face off from the covers and strained his head to the side. "Lovely to see you as always, Teach."

" _Claude_ ," she practically growled, moving to kneel beside the bed to make sure he was eye to eye with her "give me no lip" face. It wasn't very far removed from her tried and true steely expression, aside from the slight downwards tweak of her eyebrows.

"Can't a man just enjoy the presence of his favourite person in the world?"

"Not when you've gone and poisoned yourself," she snapped back. "Now tell me, what's the poison?"

Claude's eyes sparkled. "Poison?"

"Yes," she said.

He pulled a thinking expression, only to have it melt away seconds later. "Ah - I assume Marianne thought I was poisoned."

"What?" Byleth said, incredulous.

"That could be technically correct, in a way," he continued, seeming to fight back a grin. "But perhaps not in the traditional sense."

His cryptic answers weren't easing Byleth's anxieties at all. "Claude - what have you done to yourself?" She reached out to lay a hand against his forehead - and he _shuddered_ .

"Well, you see," he began, colour rising is his cheeks, "I thought I would enjoy exploring my old apothecary collection."

Byleth didn't like where this tale was headed.

"I was curious - none of my books on the subject mentioned an expiry date on some of my experiments. So I thought," he continued, grin wide, "why not test one out? See if my skills have stood the test of time."

He rolled over very, very slowly. "Turns out I may have… miscalculated. Aging seems to have increased its potency."

Byleth's eyes trailed down his semi opened white blouse, then further down to his unlaced satin pants. A very prominent bulge stood up proudly against his smallclothes.

And it _clicked_.

She flushed. "Claude - did you - take a?"

"Yeah," he swallowed, following her line of sight.

Byleth shook her head furiously, trying to dislodge the very seductive thoughts that had squirmed themselves into her brain. "You had me thinking you were dying."

He winked. "I had no say in the conclusions Marianne jumped to."

"That's -!"

"Unfair, but the truth," he finished for her. His eyes were practically devilish - no mean feat when the rest of him looked dishevelled and flustered.

She couldn't let him have his satisfaction, though. She crossed her arms and pulled the sternest expression she could possibly muster. "You scared the poor woman. You scared _me_."

"Ah, well, I can assure you that I'm not going to die. I think."

"You _think_ ?"

He squirmed, ever so slightly. "I'm not going to die in the traditional sense."

The _nerve_ of him.

Byleth's eyes flickered down to his crotch, and back up to his eyes.

It was really, really difficult to stay mad at him.

"So as you can understand, I'm in a pickle here." He looked up at her with those mischievous green eyes of his. "I could really only think of one person who could help me out."

Byleth huffed annoyingly, but her cheeks betrayed her, flushing a deeper red. "Take care of it yourself," she said.

Claude's face scrunched up with something that was close to frustration, but not quite strong enough. "I, uh, tried that."

Byleth's eyes veered down again to his unlaced pants.

"I see."

She looked back up at him, and… _was he biting his lip at her_?

Since when had he ever started to play coy? _Since he poisoned himself_ , her mind answered for her.

"Fine."

He breathed out a sigh of relief, and made to talk, but she wasn't finished speaking. She held out her finger to silence him. "On certain conditions."

He grinned at her, sitting up on the bed to pop himself up against the wall like an enthusiastic puppy. "I'm listening."

"First," she began, unlacing her boots, and then working to shrug off her coat and neck accessories, "you promise to not ingest anymore of your old stuff without _at least_ getting it checked by Manuela."

"That's a hard bargain you drive there," he teased, but nodded when he caught the concerned look on the other's face. "Sure, can do."

"Secondly," she said, softly lowering her knees onto the mattress, it squeaking at the added weight, "when we're done, find Marianne and treat her to her favourite type of tea and sweets."

"Only the best," he agreed. His breathing was growing heavier, gradually losing whatever ounce of composure he held onto with Byleth's increasing proximity.

"And finally," she whispered, leaning into his ear, "tell me the word for when you've had enough."

He seemed to squirm underneath her. "Thoron."

Satisfied with his answer, she pulled back, lifting her chin in the air. She wasn't quite tall enough to be able to loom over him, even on her knees, but her posture set the right impression on him anyway.

Very, very slowly, the tips of her fingers dragged themselves upwards from the curve of his collarbone, catching on his neck and forcing him to crane upwards. She could see him bracing himself, trying not to let his body betray him, but he couldn't hide from her the bob of his adam's apple as he swallowed in anticipation.

She pushed her fingers on his lips, insistent. "Take them."

Claude struggled between obedience and deviance. Eventually, he compromised, taking in her fingers with a hollow suck and a playful wink. As he moved his head back and forth, his eyes drooped slightly, becoming further and further lost in the sensation of having his mouth invaded by Byleth.

If on cue, she pushed deeper into him and he let out a muffled groan. 

His breaths became heavy through his nose. Byleth placed her other hand firmly on his crotch, and she watched, pleased, as his breath caught in his throat.

Slowly, agonisingly so, she peeled down the fabric of his smallclothes. His erection sprug free, and he sighed. 

Her free hand ghosted his thighs, the sides of his hips, everywhere and _anywhere but there_ . Her brushes were gentle, featherlight. She could feel him tense up anytime the tips of fingers grew close to his base. It wasn't long before he groaned in frustration.

"Hpmh - B'th," he grunted, words muffled against her fingers. She only tutted in response.

She drew her free hand further up, tracing his abdomen with her nails. Up and up, until her nails were raking across his left nipple. She tweaked it, and he trembled.

"Sensitive," she cooed. Her head tilted to the side curiously. She tweaked again, harder - this time, he whimpered.

"Hmm," she mused, pulling out her thoroughly spit-coated fingers from his mouth. "Think I want to hear you now."

If Claude had a clever remark at that, it was soon lost to him. At that moment, Byleth had used her saliva-coated hand to grip him firmly at the base of his cock.

He threw his head back -

\- only for it to slam against the wall with a painful **thud**.

Byleth's gaze shot up to find him wincing, scratching the hair on the back of his head. His moment of pain snapped the roles they were to play, to be replaced with something more silly and fond.

She couldn't help but giggle slightly, even as she comforted him. "You ok?"

Despite himself, he smiled, too. "I'm fine. Can't say my ego's unscathed, though."

She didn't know how to respond to that. Instead, she did the only sensible, hormone-driven thing she could do to lift his spirits again, and that was to dive down to give his cock a gentle kiss.

Claude couldn't decide on whether to laugh or moan. The result was a sound somewhere in between.

And just like that, they were back in the moment.

Emboldened, she gripped the base of his cock tightly. Her other hand was splayed against his chest, forcibly holding him against the wall. He was squirming underneath her, desperate for her to move, needing her to do anything but breathe deep, heavy breaths against his tip.

She began to stroke him at a maddeningly slow pace. Were it not for the buzz he felt thrum in his blood, his skin so damn _sensitive_ from that potion he took, he might have felt her grip close to painful.

He didn't complain, though. He also didn't complain when the hand against his chest snaked upwards, digits burying into his hair, only for her to yank his head back. She lunged upwards at him to sink her teeth into his exposed neck. Her strokes had begun to quicken, as if to be in sync with her suckling motions against his quickly-blooming bruises.

"So good for me," she said, breathing into his neck. The soft air and her praises made him shiver. "I think your patience deserves a reward."

Claude's eyes, expectant, met her own cunning ones. Not breaking her gaze, she sauntered her body further down the bed. This position had her face to face with his flush cock. Allowing him the luxury of a small grin, she lowered her head, and-

"Fuuccckkk."

Her mouth had enveloped him.

With a huff, she slid him further into her mouth, running her tongue wetly down his shaft. He shivered underneath her.

"Byyyyylethhhh."

She loved how his praises slurred in the haze of his pleasure. Driving him to desperation was her favourite past time - and with that devilish concoction in his veins, he was more open and unguarded than ever.

It was _so_ incredibly hot.

Her moans had him involuntarily jerk into her mouth. It only spurred her on. She began to bob against him, stroking whatever she couldn't fit. Her pace sped up.

Claude was an utterly wrecked sight. His eyes had squeezed shut, mouth open and panting. His hands had balled into fists and were gripped onto his sheets for dear life. When Byleth ran her hands across his skin, digging her nails into his wyvern-rider thighs, he was white-hot and melting.

"Nnngh - I, hah, I'm -"

She felt him begin to tense, and smirking, ever too pleased with herself, she pulled off him with a small _pop_ . Her fingers loosened her grip on him and slithered away. His whine was lyrical, music to her ears.

"Not yet."

If he wanted to protest further, he didn't show it. His breath was beginning to settle now, chest only slightly heaving, and he looked up at her expectedly.

Byleth tapped the side of her cheek, musing.

"On the floor."

She watched, amused, as he scurried away from the wall and slid off the rickety bed. With a satisfied hum, she swung her knees over the sides of the mattress, and lowered her back against the sheets. Spread open her legs. Made a beckoning motion towards him, and then made an obscene gesture with her hands and tongue which, if Claude had not seen her do so on a previous occasion, would've completely startled him.

Getting the message, he crawled towards her and rested his head against her thigh. His gentle breaths against her soaked underwear had her sighing, muscles beginning to unwind, her body sinking further into the bed. Looking up at her for a sign, for permission (she nodded), he leaned in, pulled aside the cloth there, and drew one long, wet lick against her folds.

It was her turn to shudder, now.

His pressure was earnest and wanting. He began to suck on her clit, moaning in delight against her when he felt her frame jerk up in response. His tongue then danced against her folds, lapped her up with the utmost enthusiasm that he reserved for her, and her only. Her back arched and her breathing came in short, sharp gasps.

When she felt his arm shift to lower downwards upon himself, she gave his hair a hard yank.

"Not yet," she growled. His moan against her was half blissed, half desperate to seek his own pleasure with hers. He obeyed her command, however, and his fingers slunk away from his painfully hard cock.

"Hold me."

She reached out for his hands, and, fumbling, they eventually locked fingers. His grip gave her something to steady against, to keep her grounded, as Claude had resumed his feasting with passion yet unrivaled.

If Byleth had any shame about the noises her body made with his work, it had long since left her. His pace was relentless, tongue darting up and around in a consistent rhythm. She found herself throbbing, could feel her thighs shake and wobble against the sides of his head. He diverted all of his attention to her clit and she almost screamed.

Her whole body tensed, and her back arched, completely on edge. When he moaned into her, mouth sucking her clit in earnest, she felt her body snap. With a soundless cry, she came, fast and hard.

It was a few moments before she felt her senses return. Her body slumped against the mattress, and Claude's teasing had all but slowed down to a halt. When she next glanced down at him, he had freed his head to instead rest himself on her right thigh. He was grinning with pride, and Byleth knew he was back to being far too pleased with himself.

Well, she could let him savour that for a few seconds. She'd need to recover her strength for a bit anyway.

"Well? How'd I do?"

She chuckled softly. "Telling you would defeat the purpose."

He smirked at that, and rubbed his bearded jaw against her skin. Doting, even when his instincts were to tease her.

She allowed him a small, soft smile. "But I suppose a job well done warrants a reward." 

Her praises made him blush, and - _goddess_ , what she wouldn't give to see him blush like that on a daily basis.

She dragged herself up to rest against the wall, and made a patting motion on the mattress. "Come here," she said.

He crawled up on command, once again eager for her attention. But her tone was no longer demanding, and Claude could sense it, knowing that their roles were changing.

When they'd done this sort of acting in the past, he'd observed that Byleth could never keep up her tough persona once she'd had her share of pleasure. Instead, it usually mellowed out into something more nurturing, more soft. It didn't really matter to him anyway - he could never decide which character he liked better, appreciating that both offered a special kind of emotional support that he deeply valued.

Today was no exception. She waited until he approached her, and she parted her legs so he could snuggle in and press his sides up against her. She maneuvered his head to lay on her breasts - on her soft, warm pillows, as he'd like to tease - and coaxed him into a semi-hug, semi-cradle.

Her fingers began to trace the insides of Claude's thighs, ever so lightly. He shivered. When she leaned down to whisper in his ear, the anticipation he felt heightened furthermore.

"Can I take care of you?"

"Byleth. Light of my life, stars of the night sky. There is nothing that I want more."

Reassured, her hand grabbed the base of his cock and she began to stroke him. She loved that she could feel his sharp intake of breath, the way his shoulders tightened, the way he nestled his arm around her waist to further bury himself in the warmth of her body.

"How's that?" she cooed, reaching down to plant soft kisses against his nape. He shuddered, and nodded.

"F - fantastic," Claude said, closing his eyes. She grinned into his skin.

Her pace quickened, and she deepened her kisses to match. She let her tongue drag languidly up his neck and stop, short of his hairline, before she trailed to the side to latch onto his earlobe. Her gentle tugs were rewarded with a moan.

"You're much more sensitive then normal," she said, not bothering to hide her cheek.

"Hah," he breathed, "W-wonder why that is."

"It's a mystery."

Her tongue and mouth sucked at his earlobe in earnest now. One set of fingers lightly traced his abdomen, while the other sought his release.

His breaths became short and sharp. She nestled in closer.

"Would you like to come, love?"

"Nnngh, hah, what kind of- hah, question is that?"

She could feel his cock throb at her words, however, and she huffed, amused. "I'm sorry, was I unclear?"

"N-no, you were, hah, crystal clear, just - oh fuck, please, _please_ , Byleth-!"

"Please what?"

Claude's face was a deep red now. He buried his head further into Byleth's chest.

"Please, just - _fuck_!"

He gasped, suddenly reeling at the sensation of Byleth reaching for his thighs and digging into his flesh with her nails. Her lips returned to his earlobe again and she bit down as hard as she could. His mind was reeling, body on fire, muscles pulled taunt with tension and -

"You can let go," she whispered to him. "I've got you."

The words echoed in his head. Claude felt his muscles spasm, and then, he too, felt himself snap. Everything was intense - his mind blanked for a brief moment, and he let the tidal wave of emotion crash over him. His seed spilled, landing on his chest, his stomach, Byleth's fingers. She stroked him through it all, and he was vaguely aware of her sweetly whispered praises as he pulled himself to the present.

A hand reached for her chest, and he used it to push himself upright. When he faced her, locking gazes, he found nothing but admiration there.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. A gentle finger wandered across her thigh, as if to soothe him.

"Never felt better."

She reached for his chin, lifting his head up to examine him. "No longer feel like death?"

He chuckled, Byleth feeling the vibrations of his mirth in her hold. "I'm still a bit warm, if that's what you're alluding to. Doesn't feel like I'll come down from this high for awhile."

As if a hug could cure all, she threw her arms around and squeezed him tight.

"Fun as this was," she began, nesting her head against his shoulder, "promise you won't scare me again."

Her sudden honestly was surprisingly raw. Claude could have told her about calculated risks, about the excitement of trying something new. But he knew doing so would be insensitive - so instead, he angled to place a kiss on her forehead.

"Promise."

It was his turn to grab Byleth's jaw and bring her gaze back to his own.

"Say, if I happened to whip up a fresh and _very_ _safe_ batch, perhaps in the foreseeable future, would you be opposed?"

Byleth's face blossomed red, a beautiful mix of flustered and indignant. Satisfied, Claude continued.

"If I could vouch for its quality, maybe you'd like to taste it this time?"

She shoved him backwards onto the bed. 

  
  


-x-x-x-

  
  


That afternoon, when Byleth had resumed her paperwork under the marquee, her ears caught the sound of a playful chuckle and an embarrassed squeak. Not long after, when she had made to return to her quarters, she had walked past a table that she could smell before she could see. The table was laden with cakes, biscuits, and a steaming teapot of lavender tea, and seated by its side, two of her favourite ex-students were laughing freely. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wheow, I just can't get enough of this ship, huh.
> 
> As always I've edited on mobile so apologises for any grammatical errors!
> 
> twitter friends, my main is @sylveos and my nsfw account is @rosey_chain. 💖


End file.
